Kim Boardingham

Dearest Mother, We advance through a foggy Grove this Hallow’s Eve met with a distinct smell of bourbon. Inhabitants are all dressed in suits of red and blue pastel. Colonel rebel landsharks have been chanting nonsensical phrases in the distance. Soon we strike! Onward. -Arlis

Dearest Mother, The scent of corn dogs were but a facade as bengal tigers flanked and ravaged our brigade. Great was the Vict’ry we experienced just a week prior, yet all came cascading down upon us. We must elevate consistency. Onward. -Arlis

Dearest Mother, Cajuns from the Bayou have been spotted just outside Loachapoka. Their scent of corndogs let us track’em just like beagles. Their leader has been convicted of treason in most southern states, so we’ll be sure to give’em hell like war damn eagles! Onward. -Arlis